


Liliscott Etiquette

by sainthound



Series: Wishbones [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cannibalism, Character Study, Dark, F/F, Wishbones verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainthound/pseuds/sainthound
Summary: Setter is somehow both repulsive and alluring.





	Liliscott Etiquette

"You're not coming in the house."

"But it's MY house!" Setter cries, agonised. Her vermilion eyes flick towards the gap between Ginger and the doorframe and she makes a sudden move towards it, only to be swiftly blocked by Ginger's shoulder. She bumps backwards like a moth hitting a lightbulb and frowns unhappily. "Ginger."

"You're not the only one who lives here, Set." Ginger grimaces, eyeing the red-and-grey smudge on her t-shirt where Setter touched her. Aside from the usual dusty bloom on Setter's pallid skin, the mess is far more extensive than usual. She must have been hungry. Her mouth, chin and throat are slick with blood, her hands startlingly red, and her modest dress stained beyond hope. There's even blood flecking her cheeks and congealing in her hair, Ginger notes with an inward shudder. The raw stench coming off of her is making her nauseous.

"You're not coming in until you're clean," Ginger tells her resolutely, keeping her breathing shallow. Setter's thin shoulders slump.

"You expect me to go and pollute the stream? Stand here and wait for it to rain?" She asks pointedly. "If I'm to be clean, I want to bathe in my own house, in water that won't turn me into an icicle."

"So you want to use the bath?"

"Yes."

"And you'll get right in and clean yourself off? No dithering or treading mess around the house?"

"Of course." Setter lifts her foot and points her bare toes like a dancer. "See? My feet are clean."

"And we can thank the dew in the grass for at least that luxury," Ginger replies dryly. She pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales slowly. "Alright. Right. Okay. I'll go run a bath. You- put your-" she gestures helplessly towards Setter's dress. "Ideally, I want that thing in the trash-"

"No!"

"-but since it could be used as solid evidence in a murder investigation, I guess you should just wash it." Ginger pauses. "I'm not going near it, by the way. It's your mess, you deal with it." She turns away from the door, begrudgingly, and heads towards the staircase. "Come up when you're ready. And don't touch anything."

Setter's bath clearly hasn't been used in a long time. The chipped enamel is coated in a thick layer of dust, and a large dead spider is lying on its back near the plughole, its legs curled upwards towards the dull metal taps. Gritting her teeth, Ginger twists the cold tap until it judders and dribbles a teaspoon of liquid rust into the bath. A few more seconds and it judders again, this time expelling a steady stream of cold, clear water.

Ginger leans on the edge of the bath, watching the water cut a slowly expanding path through the dust and grime. Setter usually washes herself at the sink with a piece of rag and a bar of carbolic and even then, when she burrows under Ginger's quilt at night, she smells pungent and sickly, like raw meat and rot. The smell is ingrained into her skin, her hair, her clothes, impossible to get rid of, a testament to the kind of creature she is. 

But Ginger can still make it bearable, if she tries.

She twists the cold tap off, watching the grimy water run out before twisting the hot tap. Like the other, it shudders and spits out a wad of red before beginning to run clear.

"I'll wash my clothes in the basin this evening."

Ginger jumps violently and whips around, giving Setter a glare. "Don't DO that! Make some noise when you're walking, cough maybe, give me some warni-" she stops suddenly, looking smartly away. "You're naked."

Setter seems genuinely confused. "Yes? My clothes are in the laundry basket. You told me to come up when I was ready, so I-"

"Okay! I get it. You don't get embarrassed like a normal person. But it's still kinda..." Ginger trails off, swallowing hard. "You... look normal under there, right? No teeth where there shouldn't be teeth, or anything?"

"No! You're so silly, Ginger," Setter giggles, finally stepping out of her personal space. Ginger takes a moment to breathe, and turns around.

Aside from her corpse-pale skin and the lattice of delicate blue veins on her chest and forearms, Setter looks reassuringly normal. A scattering of keratosis freckles on her arms and shoulders, her long legs dimpled and bruised at the knee, a little cellulite on her thighs... Ginger exhales. She looks like any relatively slender woman, although it's hard to pinpoint her exact age.

The blood thankfully hasn't soaked her to the skin, but the smell lingers far too strongly for Ginger's liking. Particularly when, in typical Setter fashion, she rests her head playfully on Ginger's chest.

"Whoa there, Set," Ginger stammers through a clenched jaw, her hands lifted to her sides. "Let's- let's back it up a little, alright?"

Setter either ignores her or doesn't hear her, clutching the fabric of her shirt like a baby monkey. "I'm so tired. I think I might fall asleep in the bath."

"Don't do that," Ginger warns, giving her a tentative nudge. She doesn't move at all.

"I can't help it if I do. I've eaten a lot, I need to sleep." She picks at the drying blood coating a lock of her hair, a few crumbs of it falling onto Ginger's shirt. Ginger hisses through gritted teeth and pushes Setter away firmly, gingerly brushing the dark specks onto the floor.

Setter's eyes widen a little and she gives her a thoroughly wounded look, like a kicked puppy. Ginger hesitates fatally.

"...if I stay up here and make sure you don't fall asleep, will you promise to leave me alone for the rest of the day?" 

Time spent alone is a luxury she just can't afford anymore. But no matter how oddly reassuring Setter's mother hen attitude is, no matter how much safer it is to have her around, Ginger still craves time to herself.

Setter frowns and hugs herself, worrying her thin lower lip between her teeth. After a moment, she nods. "Yes. Very well."

Ginger nods back, satisfied, and leans over to turn the tap off. She tests the water with two fingers. "It's pretty hot. Is that okay for you?"

Setter stands beside her and dips her hand in, holding it there for a moment. Ginger eyes her delicate profile curiously. She's got the form of a dancer, when she's standing still and ghosting about the house. Outside, on the uneven terrain of the forest, she's clumsy and cautious, her long legs and long hair unsuited to the mud and trees.

It endears her to Ginger, in a way.

Setter pulls her hand back and straightens up, smiling now. "That's perfect."

"Good." Ginger smooths a hand over her braided hair and sighs. "Do us both a favour and get in, then."


End file.
